


Keepsakes

by KCKenobi



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Anakin Skywalker Needs a Hug, Bittersweet, Childhood Memories, Domestic Fluff, Everyone Gets A Hug, Family Fluff, Family Shenanigans, Fluff and Humor, Gen, Humor, Obi-Wan Kenobi Needs a Hug, Padawan Anakin Skywalker, Padawan Braids
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-23
Updated: 2020-08-23
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:27:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26067202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KCKenobi/pseuds/KCKenobi
Summary: Soon to be made a Jedi Knight, Anakin packs up his Padawan bedroom to move to his new quarters. Obi-Wan’s a bit of a neat-freak. Anakin’s a bit of a hoarder. They find some things amid the mess that remind them what ‘home’ really means.
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi & Anakin Skywalker
Comments: 26
Kudos: 211





	Keepsakes

“Now _this_ was a look.”

Anakin pulled the dress robes from his closet, holding them up against his body. The fabric was purple and sequined, with long puffy sleeves and a ruffled hood – a ceremonial gown from a mission when Anakin was thirteen. When he’d first put it on all those years ago, Obi-Wan had nearly laughed himself off his chair.

Now, Obi-Wan scoffed. “A look? Certainly,” he said, shoving one of Anakin’s laser drills into a cardboard box. “Just not a good one.”

“Come on, I think it says, ‘ _Look at me – Jedi Knight, debutant, and icon of Republic fashion_ ,’” Anakin replied, twirling in front of the mirror. “I should totally wear this tomorrow. I think I can still pull it off now.”

“You didn’t pull it off _then_ ,” Obi-Wan said. “Besides, if you show up to your Knighting Ceremony in that thing, I think Master Yoda will have a stroke.”

Anakin snorted as he yanked it off, stuffing the robe into a trash bag.

In the hours since they’d started emptying Anakin’s bedroom – soon to be _former_ bedroom – the space only seemed to get messier. They were surrounded by boxes and trash bags and stacks of old robes. Earlier, Obi-Wan had needed to climb over a mountain of droid parts and tools just to get to the ‘fresher— _‘Packrat,’_ he’d muttered, while Anakin protested the nostalgic value of circuit boards and jett thrusters.

Truthfully, though, Obi-Wan was trying not to think too hard about what they were doing. This bedroom had been Anakin’s for ten years—and before that, Obi-Wan’s—but soon, it would be empty. The walls were nearly bare, stripped of Anakin’s posters and blueprints. Most of his clothes and shoes were already packed away, sitting in suitcases out in the hall. And as much as the sight brought a tightness to his chest, Obi-Wan was almost grateful for it—the sooner they were finished, the sooner he could stop looking at all these bits and pieces of who they’d been, knowing there was no turning back.

“Can I throw this out?” Obi-Wan said. He held up a metal contraption he vaguely remembered Anakin building as a teenager. Wires trickled from its side, and the durasteel was dented and rusty.

“No way! That’s C8-24.” Anakin snatched it away. “I used to work on him during political science class.”

“Well, that explains a lot,” Obi-Wan said. “Seriously though, Anakin, you can’t keep everything. The whole point of this was to _condense_. Get organized. Let go of some of your possessions—”

“Funny. I though the whole point of this was for me to be Knighted.”

“I suppose that’s a nice plus, too.”

He tried not to roll his eyes as Anakin shoved the droid into a box of things to take to his new quarters, noting with mild annoyance that the bags for trash and donations were nearly empty. Tried harder still when Anakin unearthed an old whoopee cushion he’d used to prank Obi-Wan back in the day.

“You are _not_ keeping that.”

“What? This thing holds fond memories!”

“Oh, fond memories of the entire _Council_ thinking I…” Obi-Wan cleared his throat, feeling his face get hot even now. “ _…flatulated?_ Because they aren’t so _fond_ to me. _”_

Anakin cackled.

They repeated a similar exchange dozens of times—Anakin finding some age-old treasure, Obi-Wan insisting he toss it away. And though the words were casual enough—light in the way their banter always was, punctuated with laughter and dramatic sighs—Obi-Wan sensed the tone start to shift. Anakin’s face growing tighter. His words more clipped, tone dull. And though he still teased, by the time they’d emptied the closet, Obi-Wan felt his patience draining away.

“Anakin, this is getting ridiculous,” he said at last. “You made this out of a _toilet_ paper roll when you were _ten_. Can’t we move it along?”

“No,” Anakin said, snatching the object from Obi-Wan’s grip.

“There’s going to be no space for _you_ in your new quarters.”

“I’m taking it with me.”

“But—”

“Would you stop being so difficult and just put it in the kriffing box?”

Obi-Wan looked up. His eyes searched for Anakin’s, but he had already turned away, busying himself with a pile of old class assignments on the desk. Yet even silent, Obi-Wan could hear his disquiet in the Force, could feel his sudden anguish as though it were his own.

“Anakin…”

“If you’re about to lecture me on attachment, save your breath.”

Obi-Wan rose from his knees, moving slowly to where Anakin stood. “That’s not what I was going to say.”

“Oh, wasn’t it?” he snapped. Then exhaled hard, running a hand through his hair. “Sorry. I just…this stuff means something to me, alright? I know maybe it shouldn’t, but it does.”

He finally turned around then. Obi-Wan was once again surprised to find himself tilting his head up to look Anakin in the eye—a small boy, no longer.

“For the first nine years of my life,” Anakin said quietly, “I couldn’t hold onto anything. Not things. Not even people. Anything I dared to love, I knew I’d lose.” He swallowed then, looking down before his gaze returned to Obi-Wan. “But then suddenly I had a new life, and a home. And I had you,” he said. “And I just…I don’t want to lose that, too.”

Obi-Wan felt himself soften. “You won’t,” he said. “You might get rid of some of this stuff, Anakin, but you’re not getting rid of what it stood for. And you’re certainly not getting rid of me.”

“But you won’t always be there.”

Anakin fiddled with his Padawan braid, twisting the hair between his fingers. Though Obi-Wan had tried to discourage the habit years ago, he found himself trying to memorize the sight, knowing tomorrow it would be gone. As Anakin turned away, gazing out into the mess of clothes and droids and childhood toys, Obi-Wan hoped he’d never lose this—the memory of how things used to be.

“Maybe not. Not always,” he said. “You’ll have a place of your own. Missions of your own. You’ll find your way in the galaxy without your old master by your side, as you should.”

He smiled, hoping that calling himself ‘old’ might spur Anakin’s spirit, but he didn’t look up.

“But no matter where you go and what you do, I’ll be behind you,” he continued. “I’ll be there, for you to fall back on.”

And as he looked out among the boxes and bags, Obi-Wan saw the ghost of eternity flicker before them. On the bed, young Anakin jumping up and down on the mattress, screaming “ _Today’s the day! Today’s the day!”_ on the morning of his Gathering. In the ‘fresher doorway, Anakin kneeling beside him on the floor and gently rubbing circles on Obi-Wan’s back through a migraine episode. Obi-Wan leaning over the desk, helping Anakin with homework. Finding traces of his hair in the sink. Rolling his eyes at how he snored. Tripping over his shoes on the way to the ‘fresher in the middle of the night. Mundane moments, all of them—but nonetheless, each memory a keepsake of joy and belonging and _home_.

Anakin’s eyes were a bit watery as he whispered, “I’m really gonna miss you.”

Obi-Wan considered rolling his eyes, telling Anakin he’d be right down the hall—in fact, he’d probably be over for dinner more nights than not.

But for some reason, he found his throat getting tight as he said instead:

“Me too.”

He didn’t know who moved first. But then his face was buried in Anakin’s shoulder, and Anakin’s in Obi-Wan’s hair, and there was nothing but warmth and light and the rhythm of exhales. And as he felt Anakin’s Padawan braid against his face, Obi-Wan reminded himself that home wasn’t made of the things in this room—not old dress robes or childhood art projects. Not bedsheets or droid parts or jars of sugar and tea leaves. Home wasn’t made of things at all.

Obi-Wan pulled away, stepping backwards, willing his voice to be steady as he spoke. But then—

_PHURRRRRRRRRT._

Anakin and Obi-Wan froze at the sound. Eyes wide. Looked down.

And then burst into laughter at the sight of Obi-Wan’s foot on the Force-forsaken _whoopee cushion_.

“I told you this thing is a piece of comedic gold,” Anakin said when he’d caught his breath.

“More like a piece of shavit.” Obi-Wan bent down to pick it up, trying to look displeased—and failing as the laugh tumbled out anyway. “Sorry, I’m making an executive decision—this one goes in the dumpster.”

“You can’t do that,” Anakin said, yanking the whoopee cushion from Obi-Wan’s hand.

“Of course I can—I’m still your Master for the next 24 hours, aren’t I?”

“Hey!”

They grabbed it back and forth, laughing like children as the toy farted and belched in their hands, and made one last memory before leaving this room behind.

And in that moment, and those that followed—when Obi-Wan cut Anakin’s Padawan braid, when Anakin stood before the Council as a Jedi Knight, when Obi-Wan helped him carry the boxes from their old place to his new one—Obi-Wan knew:

They were home.

**Author's Note:**

> Guys. I have to tell you—I spent an ABSURD amount of time trying to come up with an onomatopoeia for the whoopee cushion noise (and an equally absurd amount of time trying to figure out how to spell onomatopoeia just now) and ended up reading through like six different forums discussing the proper spelling of fart sounds and whether the type of fart is relevant to the decision. Writing is weird. This fic is a little cliché and a lot self-indulgent. I have no regrets.
> 
> Anyway, THANK YOU for reading! [ My star wars tumblr is here, ](https://kckenobi.tumblr.com/) and comments are always appreciated!


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